


Meet Me Midway

by Raccoonfg



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Awkward Dates, Carnival, Date Night, Games, Gen, Just Friends, M/M, Midway, Sideshow - Freeform, beach, boardwalk, rides, skeeball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raccoonfg/pseuds/Raccoonfg
Summary: Chief Bogo has been working himself too hard lately, worrying Benjamin Clawhauser. Can he convince his boss to go out with him for an evening of fun?





	

**Author's Note:**

> The following short story was written for /trash/'s Thematic Thursday event; Date Night (09/29/16)

It was the usual routine day for Chief Bogo in his office; assign this, file that, send there, schedule then, chastise her, demerit him, and--

Bogo ceased his paper shuffling, sensing a presence nearby. Lowering the hooful of sheets, he saw a pair of big glittery eyes peering over the rim of his desk, haloed by twitching whiskers and wiggling ears.

“What is it Clawhauser?” Bogo grumbled.

The bubbly cheetah officer sprung up from his crouched position under the desk and nearly flopped himself over the entire tabletop.

“I’ve been thinking Chief,” he chirped.

“As always,” Bogo cut in, already returning his attention to his remaining workload, only to have the papers pulled back down to the desk with Ben’s stubby paw.

“You’ve been working yourself too hard lately, and it’s been worrying me.”

“Is that a fact?” Bogo snorted, struggling to pull his papers away from Clawhauser’s grasp; the cheetah’s overall body mass somehow managed to upstage Bogo’s strength.

“Uh huh,” Ben nodded, finally letting go of them and letting the bundle fly into Bogo’s lap in a messy pile. “So what I was thinking was that mayyybe the two of us could have some fun tonight.”

“I see.”

“Live a little.”

“Right.”

“Loosen up.”

“Uh huh.”

“Cut a rug.”

“Clawhauser.”

“Get down with our bad sel--”

“Clawhauser!”

“Sorry.” Ben sheepishly tucked his head into his shoulders and smiled. “Anyways, how about it? Hm?”

“Well,” Bogo sighed, “I suppose I could use a night to relax a little.”

He had been working extra hard lately, and the recent unruliness of his subordinates wasn’t making things easier. If it wasn’t Hopps running off half-cocked, it was Wilde running schemes behind his back, or McHorn going overboard on the spray, or the new guy in Records & Documents giving him annual headaches.

A break would be welcome.

“Alright, Clawhauser, if you want to help me relax, then perhaps you’ll join me at the gym tonight--”

“Ew. Ew, no.” Ben floppily waved his paw, vetoing the idea.

Bogo rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth. “Better ideas?”

“Hm… Ooo! There’s this new club in--”

“Pass.”

“Well I have a Packon coupon for hang gliding--”

“Pass.”

“There’s a cooking class--”

“Pass.”

“Roller disco--”

“Pass.”

Uncharacteristically, Clawhauser huffed in annoyance and tried to give Bogo an ‘angry face’, but it mostly just came out lopsided and half-hearted.

“You can’t just pass on everything I say, Chief,” Ben whined. “You gotta at least meet me half-way on this or- Oh. …Oh!” Suddenly Clawhauser was bouncing and clapping his paws, much to the befuddlement of Bogo. “Oooh! But maybe you can meet me…”

 

* * *

 

“At the midway!” Ben proclaimed, twirling and waving his arms at the great big wood and steel sign that lit up with bright neon colors and welcomed all comers to the midway and boardwalk at Sandbox Point.

“Hmm…” Bogo had followed Clawhauser on his suggestion, but he still scrutinized the entrance like a bad idea.

“Oh come on!” Ben cooed, bounding over to Bogo and grabbing him by the hoof. “It’ll be fun!”

Sandbox Point is one of Zootopia’s many attractions. Built along a beach that borders between Savanna Central and Sahara Square, Sandbox Point has been welcoming Zootopia’s citizens for all sorts of amusements. From sunbathers to swimmers. Game players to amusement ride enthusiasts. Music lovers to thrill seekers. Sandbox Point has almost everything you need on their beach-side boardwalk and midway.

“Sooo,” Ben piped up, still dragging Bogo by the hoof, “What do you want to do first? Ride the ferris wheel? See the haunted house? Go for a swim?”

“It’s nine in the evening, I hardly think it’s time for swimming,” Bogo corrected him. But now that he mentioned it, the place seemed far livelier than he would expect for this late in the evening.

“Ooh, you’re no fun.”

Continuing on into the main area, Bogo was definitely seeing more of a crowd than expected. A very big one.

But no families. Only small groups.

Pairs.

Duos.

Couples.

And then he saw it.

Written on a great big banner that spanned across the walk-way.

‘Sandbox Point Welcomes You All to Date Night on the Boardwalk’

“Clawhauser,” Bogo groaned, rubbing his forehead with his free hoof. “Did you know about this?”

“Oh sure,” Ben replied, head cocking every which way at the excitement. “It was all over the Sandbox Point Chitter feed.”

“Clawhauser…”

“Oh, don’t be a buffalo pill,” Ben playfully batted Bogo’s shoulder. “It just means that most things are discounted if you come as a couple. Besides, look, there’s plenty of guys here together.”

Bogo glanced over to where Clawhauser was pointing, and saw a beaver and raccoon being seated in the Tunnel of Love ride. Despite the fact that the beaver looked as uncomfortable as Bogo was feeling, it wasn’t very reassuring.

“I don’t know…”

“It’s fiii~ne,” Ben mewed and picked up the pace, directing him over to a stage with a painted backdrop that illustrated all sorts of mammalian oddities and performers.

“Step right up! Step right up!” A lion in a straw skimmer hat bellowed at the passersby as he twirled a cane, occasionally rapping various parts of the backdrop to point out the many sights to see inside. “You’ll never see another show like this in Zootopia! No sir, no sir! Step right inside and see the wild sights of Sandbox Point’s world famous side show!”

“Ooo!” Ben cooed.

“Humph,” Bogo grunted, “Just a cheap means of siphoning your money.”

“Chiii~eeeff…”

“Ugh. Fine.”

The two of them paid the admission and stepped through the curtain, finding themselves in a dimly lit space where a rickety stage faced a set of bleachers. Several rows were already filled with murmuring guests. Bogo and Clawhauser quickly took their seats as the tune of calliope music signalled that the show was about to begin.

The same lion from outside pranced onto the stage and broadly bowed to the audience, with cane in one paw and hat in the other.

“Thank you very much! Now, allow me to introduce our first act! She comes from the exotic east! Truly a wonder of the animal figure! Give a big round of applause for LOLA the Long Necked LADY!”

Everyone in the audience applauded but Bogo, who sat there with his arms folded, watching the lion shuffle off the stage in a perpetual bow. Soon high pitched belly-dancing music started to play, and the titular Lola shimmied out onto the stage.

Bogo was already unimpressed.

Lola the Long Necked Lady was merely a giraffe.

Still, she seemed to dance well enough, and halfway through her act she was given a set of hula-hoops that she placed around her neck and gyrated with the swaying of her jugular. But she was hardly the exotic spectacle Bogo was promised.

A long necked panda? Now that would have been something.

The lion bounded back onto the stage, waving at the audience to clap harder for Lola.

“Now wasn’t that Something? Lola! The Long Necked LADY! Now, ladies and germs, our second act of the show! I will warn you; this next performer will boggle your mind! And… Turn your stomach!” He paused to allow some nervous laughs from the audience. “So please, give a warm round of applause for this Trashcan Titan! This Leadbelly Beast! This freak from parts unknown… BONGO the Ravenous GEEK!”

Everyone whooped and hollered, including Clawhauser, which left Bogo feeling he should at least oblige with a few weak claps of his hooves.

As the commotion died down, an ominous piano tune kicked in, and an unidentifiable animal in a hooded robe stumbled out, dragging a basket filled with all sorts of objects. Reaching the center of the stage, he wildly threw off his cloak, eliciting an audible gasp from the crowd.

But Bogo chose to withhold any possible shock.

Bongo the Ravenous Geek was just a disheveled goat in a dirty tunic.

And yet, everyone else was on the edge of their seats as Bongo reached into the basket and dramatically produced a tin can.

Bogo already knew where this was going.

For the next five minutes, as the piano rambled on, Bongo ate the tin can, an apple core, a pocket watch, eight chicken bones, a wool scarf, and for his finale he juggled three fish heads, with each one falling perfectly into his mouth and straight down his throat.

Much like Lola’s closer, Bogo had to admit some modicum of charm was felt.

But only a little.

Once again, the lion returned to the stage to see off the performer.

“Bongo the Ravenous GEEK! Round of applause everyone!” He winked and jabbed his cane in the general direction of the audience. “Ladies, I bet you wish you had a mammal like him around at home when it’s time for spring cleaning, am I right?”

Chuckles were had all around.

“And now, moving on to our next exciting act! He’s a wise and mysterious master of the flute! Beckoning all the serpents to dance to his tune! He is our own resident snake charmer! The one and only--”

The lion suddenly stopped his spiel as a mongoose wearing a fez and carrying an ornate flute skittered on stage and proceeded to tug at the lion’s pant leg, urging him down to his level. Everyone in the audience exchanged glances and muttered among themselves as the two performers on stage spoke to each other in hushed whispers.

“Wadda ya mean you ate your act AGAIN?!” the lion suddenly roared angrily at the mongoose, causing the tiny performer to flee away. Realizing that the audience had been gawking at him the entire time, the lion forced a cheesy grin and placed his straw hat over his heart in apology. “Very sorry, ladies and gents! It appears we’ve had a, uh… Dietary difficulty. It’ll just be a few moments before we move on to the next act.”

And with that the lion scampered off the stage in a panic.

“Okay,” Bogo grunted, standing up and tugging at Ben’s shirt. “I think we should move on.”

“Aw, but Chiii~eeeff…”

“Now.”

Re-emerging back onto the boardwalk, Bogo scanned the area for something low-key and less insulting to his intelligence to while away some time with Clawhauser, and eventually spotted a nearby empty arcade.

The only occupants at the time was the young ram running the prize counter, who was some bored looking white wool sheep in a Cloven Hoof trucker hat, and one solitary game player, a rabbit who was flailing around aimlessly in some videogame with a VR headset on.

And here Bogo thought the fad of VR gaming was long dead.

Who knew?

“Come along, Clawhauser.” Bogo jerked his horns towards the arcade and led Ben over. “Maybe there’s something worthwhile in here.”

“Ooh, is there ever!” Ben cheered and ran right past Bogo, darting right towards the rows of skeeball machines at the back of the arcade.

“Skeeball, eh?” Bogo fished around in his pockets for some loose change. “I suppose it’s as good as any other sport.”

“Oh ho, no,” Clawhauser chuckled incredulously, removing his own pawful of coins and slipping them into the machine. “No no no. Better.”

Bogo shrugged and paid the required amount for a set of balls and picked one up, raising it to his shoulder blade level for an expert pitch.

“Um, what are you doing?” Ben snickered.

“What? I’m playing skee--”

“Ah ha, neeeuuu…” Ben patronizingly placed his paw on Bogo’s hooves and corrected his stance to an underhand throw. “Like this. Okay, newbie?”

Bogo huffed in irritation at one of his underlings correcting him, but he wasn’t willing to start a fight. It was hardly conducive when trying to relax. So instead he obeyed and flung the ball at the goals as hard as he could.

And scored a ten.

The lowest hole.

“What?” The idea that his pitch wasn’t good enough didn’t sit well with him, so Bogo flung as hard as he could again, knowing he’d do better this time.

Ten.

He could hear Clawhauser suppressing a giggle from beside him.

Bogo narrowed his eyes, focused his mind, visualized himself achieving his goals, and tossed his remaining balls with total precision.

Ten.

Ten.

Ten.

Ten.

Ten.

Ten.

And ten.

With all of his balls spent, Bogo was left standing there with the measly two tickets the machine spat out for him, and a damaged pride.

“Okay,” Ben said, cracking his knuckles and flexing his shoulders. “Time for you to see how it’s done.”

Bogo was just about to snort some pessimistic comment, when he was shocked by the sight of Clawhauser swiftly flinging the ball across the runner and right into the hole marked fifty.

And then another fifty.

Fifty.

Fifty.

One hundred.

Fifty.

Fifty.

One hundred.

Fifty.

Bogo’s jaw slowly drooped at the same pace as the long string of tickets that coiled out of the machine’s dispenser.

“Dang,” Clawhauser otherwise pouted a little at his sizable bounty. “I usually get more hundreds than that.” And then he shrugged and beamed at Bogo. “I guess you were just making me feel nervous.”

Bogo would have sneered at such humility, but he was too busy feeding another hooful of coins into the machine, earning himself three more tickets in the end.

Pooling their winnings together, the two of them walked up to the prize counter, and found they had at least earned their choice of a small stuffed toy, so Clawhauser excitedly picked out a grinning whale from among the selection. Walking away from the arcade, with their new prize held firmly in Clawhauser’s paws, Bogo was certain he heard the sheep behind the counter mutter that he should have stayed in med school.

“So,” Clawhauser grinned up at his commanding officer, “Are. We. Having. Fun. Yet?” With each punctuation of that sentence, he prodded Bogo with the stuffed whale.

“Hrm.”

“Aw, c’mon Chief.” Ben then got up on his tippy-toes and pressed the whale right into the side of Bogo’s face. “Mr. Whaley Whale wants you to have fun too!”

“Well that’s alright for Mr… Ehh. Whaley Whale. But I’m just not sure that we can have the same kind of fu--”

“Hey, Buffalo Gal, wanna win your boyfriend a prize?”

Bogo immediately halted and craned his glaring face to see a pig carney waving at him, chomping a big cigar between a shit-eating grin. Behind the taunting swine was his game tent; one of those knock-over-the-cans affairs.

“How about it, Mac?” The pig pressed on, ashing his cigar with the tap of a hoof. “Win a bigger dolly for that Two-ton Tabby danglin’ off your arm?”

“Um, just, ah, ignore him.” Clawhauser tried to pull Bogo away, but the chief was firm in his posture.

“Clawhauser,” Bogo said, rolling up his sleeves, “You watch Mr. Whaley Whale while I settle some business with this fine gentlemammal.”

Putting on his best smug look, Bogo marched right up to the counter and removed his wallet.

“So… What’s the cost?”

“Five bucks for three balls,” the pig grunted, still puffing away on his cigar. “Knock down all three cans and you win a prize. Get all cans with all three throws and you get the biggest prize.”

“That a fact?” Bogo asked, thumbing his way through the bills in his wallet.

“That’s right, Mac.”

“Fine, fine…” Bogo produced five single bills and held them out for the carney, but paused before letting them loose into the pig’s grasp. “And I hope everything is on the level. After all,” he then lowered his wallet to give the pig a good look at his badge, “You wouldn’t be the sort to rip off the Chief of Police, now would you, sir?”

The pig started to visibly sweat, and removed a stained handkerchief from his pocket to dab his brow.

“Hows… Howzabout you try those cans over there? They’re, ah… They’re the demonstration ones I use. B-best in the house.”

“Lovely,” Bogo grinned, letting go of the bills and snatching up three baseballs from the counter.

Assuming the same pitching stance he took at the arcade, Bogo felt like he was in his proper element this time.

Three cans.

Three cans.

Three cans.

“B-been a p-pleasure, Mac,” the pig carney later said, handing off Bogo’s well deserved prize.

“Likewise,” Bogo nodded, and accepted his spoils, Mr. Whaley Whale’s new friend, the giant-sized Ms. Narlywhal.

Maybe it was possible to have fun here after all.

After that incident, the tension in Bogo seemed to finally break up, allowing him and Clawhauser to enjoy the rest of their double-date with Mr. Whaley Whale and Ms. Narlywhal.

They rode the roller coaster.

The tea-cups.

The haunted house.

They even found a Gazelle branded Dance & Sing machine that the two of them did very well at; drawing a small crowd of onlookers.

All in all, Bogo was finally having some fun.

Later that evening, the two of them were walking along the boardwalk, enjoying some soft-serve ice cream, when Clawhauser looked up at Bogo nervously.

“Hey, Chief?”

“Hm?”

“I, ah, just wanted to say that I’m glad that you came out here with me tonight.”

“Think nothing of it.”

“No, really. I was worried you might think this was all stupid, and you wouldn’t want to come, and… I dunno. It’s just,” Clawhauser’s face shifted to a rather unusually emotional sort of smile Bogo had never seen him make before. “It’s just that I really like you, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me that much.”

“Clawhau-- Ben,” Bogo placed an arm around the cheetah’s shoulder, “Of course I really like you.”

“You do?”

“Absolutely. I value our friendship very much.”

It had seemed like the right answer at the time, but there was something in the silent nod that Clawhauser gave him that made Bogo realize that he still came up short of expectations.

Fortunately, it was around that time that he spied a Sandbox Point worker approaching couples to take their photographs on the tablet he was holding, so Bogo quietly beckoned the friendly wolf over.

“Care to have your picture taken?”

“Absolutely,” Bogo replied, looking down at Ben, watching the smile spread across his face.

“Chief…”

“Come on now, it’ll be fun.”

“Okay,” the wolf assumed the position to get the both of them in frame. “Wait for the flash…”

And just as the tablet flickered the instant before the picture was taken, Bogo gave a quick kiss on the top of Clawhauser’s head, immediately seeing the big cat brighten up with glee as the flash filled their vision.

“Chiii~eeeff!”

“Think nothing of it, Ben.”

“Alright,” the wolf nodded approvingly at the resulting picture on the tablet’s screen. “Looking good guys.”

“So,” Bogo reached into his pocket for his wallet, “Do I pay you, or at the print stand that we pick this up at?”

“Huh?” The wolf looked at Bogo with mild confusion. “Oh! Oh, no, this is for the Sandbox Point Chitter feed. We’re posting pictures of all the happy couples that came out for Date Night.”

“…What?”

“Yup. Your picture will be shared will every one of our followers.”

“Every… Follower…”

“All five hundred thousand of them.”

“F-five…”

Bogo was beside himself with the notion that he just willingly broadcasted himself kissing one of his fellow officers to a fraction of the internet, while Clawhauser was busy pulling out his smartphone and queuing up his Chitter app to get a better look at their photo.

“Heyyy,” Clawhauser held up his phone to Bogo to give him a better look, “we look pretty cute together.”

Already at the top of the feed was the two of them together, but all Bogo saw was the number of replies, reblogs, and likes that were rapidly increasing on the post.

 _‘looks lik u 2 had fun’_ \- **@bunnyburrowbobby**

 _‘ooo laa laa chief’_ \- **@wildetimes4lyfe**

 _‘kyuute’_ \- **@therealcanidae**

 _‘far out man’_ \- **@labradorsmkr420**

 _‘I can only wish me and my bae could be so happy’_ \- **@beaverhunter82**

 _‘I’m glad to see that our boys in blue can celebrate who they really are. #prideonpatrol’_ \- **@therealgazelle**

 _‘gtfo fags’_ \- **@spideraficionado666**

 _‘its not ghey if its prey’_ \- **@bethebun576324**

Finally recoiling back from Clawhauser’s phone, Bogo gripped Ms. Narlywal tightly and took a deep breath.

“Take a note, Clawhauser.”

“But I’m not your secretary--”

“Take. A. Note.”

“Right chief…” Clawhauser quickly tapped his phone to the memo app.

The photo incident may have upset the fun Bogo was having that night, but he knew that if anyone tried to make him regret it tomorrow, he’d be having his own kind of fun then.

And it was the sort of fun that only he could enjoy.

“A full year of parking duty for anyone who dares make light of this at the precinct. A. FULL. YEAR.”


End file.
